


Literary Omens and Short Stories

by HalfBakedMermaid



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Gen, M/M, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 04:55:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20960831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HalfBakedMermaid/pseuds/HalfBakedMermaid
Summary: A collection of short inspired stories for the Good Omens fandom set in no particular order.





	1. Alpha Centauri

_You gave it away..?_

_..let me buy you lunch.._

_Little demonic miracle of my own._

_Anywhere you want to go .._

_You go to fast for me...._

_Stay at my place.._

_We could.. go off together...._

"Alpha Centauri..." He spoke the words softly as they stood.

"Eh?" Crowley looked back at the cherub following him onto the bus.

Aziraphale stopped on the bottom step of the transport. "Why did you want to go to Alpha Centauri?" His mind had been wandering.. it had landed on this, of all things.

"Tst" the snake smirked and proceeded to the first bench seat. He turned and shrugged a little. "I'nu".

Aziraphale let out a tired sigh and nodded. The demon looked like Aziraphale felt; Recently discorperated. Silly questions from a brain fried angel. He chucked internally and followed Crowley, who had slumped into the bench, window side.

Crowley's hidden eyes watched the angel. Sure, they would be fine for a while.. but the world had crumbled around the angel. All purpose, reason and comfort had been stripped from the poor chap. Oh, Crowley would be fine, he was street wise and self reliant, he didn't need a boss telling what to do with himself, but it might be a little while before the angel accepted his new existence; earthly limbo.

Crowley's lips crooked into a tired smirk. "Alpha Centauri.." He breathed the words, recalling their magnificent glow.

Aziraphale slumped into the seat beside Crowley, unconcerned with the proximity to the demon. "Mmh" he hummed in agreement. "Alpha Centauri."

"I had a hand in that one" the demon offered.. and the angel accepted, laying his head on that demon's shoulder to listen. "Before the whole Heaven and Hell thing."

"Of course.." Aziraphale nodded, his cheek nuzzled against the demon's arm. Maybe neither had the strength to care.. or maybe they were just OK with it. Didn't really matter at that point to either of them. The angel closed his eyes as the demon mumbled tiredly on.

"Was just.. messin' with it, ya know? I wasn't gonna hurt anything. It'd just been sitting there.."

Aziraphale's lips turned up slightly. Crowley sauntered vaguely onward.

"How hard could it be? a star, a few planets, a satellite or nine.." He waved his hand to the window, out at the clouded night sky. "But it was all.. wrong. So.. I added another sun.. "

The angel chortled.

And everything got... wonky. Couldn't keep it spinning right. Guessed I panicked, grabbed a couple more stars an' threw satellites at the bloody mess til it finally, finally stopped wobbling. And *_that's* when they found me out."  
"Oh dear.._

"Mm hm. Seems I made a mess of a few other works in progress.. May have destroyed a solar system when I took that sun...but the damned thing really was beautiful, Perfect shade of red.. I had to have it, brought the whole thing together.." He rambled on. "Damn beautiful."

Crowley found himself absently twisting his long thin fingers around soft angelic digits. It was as natural as cradling a wine glass.. gave him that same floaty feeling, too. When had that happened?

Didn't matter. With a content sigh he continued. "Still is. Beautiful I mean. Quite a marvel that it spins at all. Course no one bothered putting my name on that one.. Cheeky bastards."

Aziraphale smirked.

"How you doing, Angel?" The demon murmured to his companion.

The angel sounded tired. "We should go, you know.. to Alpha Centauri.. When we have time."

Crowley silently pressed his face against the angels soft, pale curls, his eyes closing. This wasn't so bad, he was glad to have someone he trusted at a time like this. Someone to let his guard down around. "Mm.. Picnic?" Crowley's smile was hidden in angel down.

"When this is all over, hmm?" Aziraphale sounded hopeful. And he was. Together they had saved the world, saved the human race. Together they could handle anything Heaven or Hell threw at them. For once, the angel had no doubts about his partnership with the demon.

" An' if it's never over?" came the lazy reply.

".... Then.. we'll run away."

The demon nuzzled his face against his angel's hair, the angel gripped the demon's hand a little tighter.

"That's a great idea, Angel."


	2. And Then We Drink

London, 1965

"Come on, Crowley" The angel stopped and set down his glass. He grabbed his coat off the hook, folded it over his arm and straightened his tie as he spoke. "You're going with me. I won't do this on my own." pause... "They're not.. My kind of humans".

Crowley smirked, but refused, for at least a few moments longer, to budge. He pulled his knees to his chest, his feet on the leather couch he sat upon. A freshly pored glass of deep red elixir cupped in his hand. "Nu'uh. You can do it. I won't go."

"My dear you have to go, the mischief part is your.. thing. I'm supposed to be there helping people." Aziraphale pleaded.

"You lost the toss, Angel."

"I didn't lose, you tossed without my input!" His brow furrowed and he balled his chubby hands into little fists. Aziraphale grumbled and sighed. tugged his coat on silently as he considered how to get the demon off the couch. "We can go to that.. that place you like.. Gordons.. I'll get you anything you want." The angel looked physically uncomfortable as he spoke, and that brought a tiny smile to the demon's lips.

That was exactly how to get his attention. The demon raised a brow behind dark round glasses. "Gordons? You hate that place."

"I don't hate it! It's just a little.. creepy. But they do have a wonderful selection.." Aziraphale fumbled with his clothes, eyes averted. "I could get a few bottles myself.. we could bring something back for night caps."

Crowley's grin was on display.

Aziraphale smiled a little, knowing he had hooked the demon. "I'll distract the staff so you can handle the lights and power, then we can try to get everyone out of the building! I bet we could do it, clear the place out and be back here before midnight."

Crowley considered this for a few moment before he downed the glass in his hands, tinked it on the table beside him and stood on long legs. "Bribe accepted."

"It's not a... a bribe!" Aziraphale huffed. "It's.. it's team work."

Crowley ran one hand back through his hair, the other stuffed into the pocket of his pants With little attempt at hiding his smile, the demon swayed towards the door. "If you say so, Angel... what's this bloody band called anyway?"

"I believe it's called.. The Rolling Stones... ever heard of them?"

"No.. can't say I have. Hope they can handle a little heat."

"Hopefully only a little smoke, we just have to get everyone out of the building."

"We." The demon stated.

"We." The angel replied.

"And then we drink?"

Aziraphale sighed. "Yes, and then we drink!"


	3. Planning Movie Night!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternate title; UR!!
> 
> (For my little brother, my best friend and the biggest nerd in the whole world. Love you Leo)

Crowley was enjoying the warmth of the sun on his face and the conversation of the proper gent that strolled beside him, carrying on about a movie house/fine dining establishment he's recently read about.

"They play old movies every night, Wednesday is Western Night!" The angel continued unfaltering on, confident and content in talking about something human that he found fascinating, knowing the demon shared his interests in at least this aspect of earth.

It suited him, the demon noted; Aziraphale's excitement about dinner and an old movie was charming. Crowley never understood why the denizens of Hell, or Heaven for that matter, would ignore something so intricate and beautiful and flawed and perfect.... but he didn't want to get caught up in that internal monologue, so he refocused his attention on the conversation at hand.

"-friday night. They'll be serving drinks and food, the full menu in fact.. I've heard their chocolate cake is to die for. Have you seen Titanic?" The angel paused his chatter to glance to the demon walking beside him, patient as a saint.

Yes, it was a conversation. And Crowley was endlessly amazed at this simple, stunning fact.

Red brows lifted over his all-encompassing glasses expression stoic, "Eh? Which one's that? The boat one, right?" he tilted his head to get a look at the angel.

Aziraphale nodded and continued speaking as they walked, "Ship, Crowley, it's a ship. But yes, that one. The director's cut, no less! And I believe they'll be holding a tribute to Gloria Stuart after the show. And they have balcony seating! Wouldn't it be fun?"

"I know you know they got the whole thing wrong... ya' know?"

"That's not the point, Crowley, it's-"

At that moment, Crowley's phone rang. He quickly stuffed a hand into his pocket, yanked out his phone

Latest model of course, Samsung Galaxy S. He loved that name. This thing did all kinds of stuff. He answered it, leaving their conversation in the air. " 'eello, Crowley speaking."

Azirephale let his companion have his call and turned his muted blue eyes briefly to the shops that lined both sides of this street of Soho, giving his friend a little privacy.

The Angel's attention was soon drawn to a storefront expertly lined with fine chess, backgammon and domino sets, some wood, one stone. And along with them, a game the angel hadn't seen in centuries!

The board was slightly raised, many large squares in a precise grid-based pattern comprised the board, and several carved stone-like markers where set inside some of the squares. Beside the board; more 'stones' and several tetrahedron-shaped dice.  
By modern standards it was probably pretty enough. For Aziraphale it was lacking a bit of.. inspiration. But a plan was already in the works to inspire the makers of the hand crafted piece from this very specialized shop into something worth playing. He wasn't going to do the work, of course, just the inspiring! And he would have to see what came of that inspiration... and some how it was just fine that he would be the one receiving the masterpiece. Maybe the demon was rubbing off on this angel. Next thing you know, he'll be stealing books from poor innocent American girls.

The angel exclaimed "Ur!" and moved to cross the quite-occupied street to reach the shop in single sighted determination, wondrous excitement guiding his feet.

Crowley was still talking on his cell phone but swiftly and deftly he grabbed on to Aziraphale's hand, an attempt to stop him from walking into the busy street.

(Not that he really considered the reasoning)

Crowley was dragged for a step or two before waving his phone in the air,left and right to demonically stop traffic. He really did try to snap. But the phone prevented it. Eh, it was just for show anyway.

Aziraphale pulled him across the street and to the store front. He squeezed before letting go.. huh.. and nearly bounced with excitement. "Oh you do remember this game, don't you my dear?" It was, in fact, his third favorite game, besides Othello and Tick-Tack-Toe, in no particular order. More than that, it was something that held importance in his heart. Good memories.

Crowley had stopped talking, his phone in one hand, held out nine inches from his ear.

He just stared at the side of the angel's head.

Then down at his now empty, and somewhat warm, palm.

Then back to Aziraphale. Whoever was on the phone just kept saying "Tony? Tony?" while he continued to stare.

"I have to have one!" The angel turned to Crowley, beamed (literally) with excitement, then spun around and scurried into the shop to purchase The Game of Ur.

The demon was speechless for a moment.

Crowley watched Aziraphale through the shop window as the angel drew the dealer's attention. The phone was now silent. The screen gone dark.

Inside, the angel had begun to order a custom game board with his choices of inlays and colors. He was truly excited to play the old game with his closest friend once more._ And maybe that odd young gentleman who keeps beating me at backgammon in the park, He might enjoy a new game. Oh, and maybe Charles at the bakery would-_

Crowley slinked his way into the shop, phone returned to his pocket, along with his hands; just enough to give him room to sway.

The swing of the door rang a quaint bell. _The sound of bells.. haha.. shut up you fool... ha..._ He could hear his angel chattering in the back of the room and followed the sound more than anything to join him. The demon's face was a wall. Eyes mysterious and a jaw like welded steel.

"So" Pale blue eyes lifted to the demon as he was joined. The clerk had retreated behind his desk to prepare the order's paperwork. Aziraphale fell silent.

It only took a second, exactly, for Crowley to answer, because the snake was quick on his.. his.. er... feet.. (Whatever).

Crowley smiled, just a little bit, enough to disarm his friend. "So... I guess I'll pick you up at 7, then? Or do you want to walk to Tottenham Boulevard?

"Oh.." The blond quickly looked away.. then sheepishly back. "That would be lovely." there was a very pleased smile in his pale eyes and on his soft lips as he accepted whatever had just happened.

This moment was filed away with many others; tiny slips of their personas where 'maybe' lived; Music filled spaces they shared in comfort. Wine with discussion about all creatures, great and small.

And it was what it was, and he was happy to experience it, and somewhere inside, deep down, the angel hoped and hoped and prayed the demon did the same. In his own way. Maybe some day they would get their chance to talk about it.

Crowley lifted his phone again, poking the smooth flat screen with it's button-less buttons. "It's a date then, Angel" he offered and he turned away to continue the previous call, seeming unmoved by the shop of games and pool tables and dart boards.. Dart boards... those caught his attention for a second or two before he left the shop once more, phone to his ear.

After a ring he was yelling into the phone outside.

Of course the angel had noticed his demon's glance and waited patiently for the salesman to return, a pleased smile on his delicate features. "My good sir... could I perhaps order one more thing? Yes, yes, custom."


	4. Bump In The Road.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> obligatory kitten prompt

The Bentley, graveyard grey; the color of ashes; the color of the sky in a storm, a frightening thing in the dark, rattled softly, perfectly, in the middle of an unpopulated street of east Soho, London.

The car was in park, the drivers side door open and the driver (equally frightening in the dark) was out, standing in the car's headlights, staring down at his current impediment.

The hold up? The person/creature/thing right where his tire should have already been and gone?

A kitten.

Yep, a kitten.

_ ...glare... _

"Great. Gah!"

He stood menacingly over the creature, muttering about saving it's life and demanding it not sit in the road. "Shoo, get, ssscoot!" he demanded, waving his hand at the blob in the road. All the while in his demonic head he was analyzing the situation and deciding what to do with a kitten.

It was little and pudgy, not properly cat-shaped at all. His eyes were a soft blue...._ huh_. And he..? She? Did cats?.. it. It was endlessly mewing.

Well of course it was, it was a kitten.

Crowley scooped it up in a little bit of a panic. It's little kitten sounds set Crowley's ears on edge.

So he put it, gently of course, into the boot of his Bentley.

The kitten continued to mew. And mew. And mew, the sound faint to the demon's ears, muffled by the sturdy construction of his Bentley. It wasn't far, maybe five minutes? Ten?

_"Mew, mew, mew, mew"_

*_hsssss_*

It as still mewing when Crowley finally reached the bookstore, fifteen minutes later.

  
A few of the interior lights where on at A. Z. Fell & Co. Booksellers, a soft glow behind drawn shades and sets of heavy velvet curtains.

  
A rather long and well written 'Hours of Operations' notice hung on the door. Beside it a 'closed' sign.

On pulling up alongside the walk and, noting all these things, instantly knew the angel wouldn't answer a knock at his door.

Crowley pulled a clunky flip phone from his overcoat's inside breast pocket and dialed a number by memory, because programming a number into the latest evolution of the brick took way too much time. (Hmmm... maybe he could do something about that.)

Crowley was patient, he knew the angel had to put down his book/glass, turn down his music and prepare himself to face whatever dared interrupt him.. as kindly as possible. So on the third ring, the angel finally answered; "I'm so sorry, we're quite clo-"

"Shush. come outside, I need your help." The demon sounded almost panicked. then the line went silent.

"Hello? Crowley? Hello?" Aziraphale sighed and placed the elegant wooden handset back onto it's polished metal cradle with a soft 'click'. "Well. Alright...," Aziraphale grabbed his coat and pulled it on as he trotted down the stairs and to the front door.

Crowley was heading for the trunk when the angel opened his shop's door. 

  
  
Aziraphale stopped in the door way, assessed the situation, turned and went back inside. He returned momentarily with his gloves and a shovel.

"You can tell me what happened on the way, dear boy. I'm sure we can clear this whole mess right up."

"WHAT?" In one of those few, genuine insistence of real shock in his long long life, Crowley let his glasses slip down his nose so he could properly gawk at the angel. He barked out a laugh!

The angel got the hint quickly enough, He turned on his heels in embarrassment and returned the shovel to the store, just inside the door, with just a demure glance to Crowley, indignant and a little confused. "What's..."

Crowley was snickering. No panic in the demon now.

"I'm the one who should be laughing, dear boy. Think about that." the angel walked around the giggling demon, having gathered his composure somewhat.

Aziraphale opened the trunk.

It's hard to tell if human brains and angel brains (?) work the same, it's impossible to know which one processes ideas faster, which one intakes information faster, solves problems faster. The natural bias would be in favor of angels, according to most angels. (We won't get into demons)

Most angels would label this particular principality as highly empathetic more than highly intelligent.

In truth, he was omni-lingual.

Fear. He spoke that language. His dialect was perfect.

The trunk wasn't even an inch open when Aziraphale's eyes opened wide in excitement and his very being started to glow.

"Mew. Mew. Mew."

The demon, dark and looming and serpent-like in his posture, settled his laughter down to a little sideways smile. He softly patted the angel's shoulder. "Turn it down, Angel."

And Aziraphale did as Crowley said. Can't be glowing in the street, what will the neighbors say? His curved body fading back to lightlessness as he leaned in fully to scoop the calico furball up with both hands. "Oh. My goodness.." He whispers in surprised delight under the faint glow of none but the street lights. He was cooing softly as he turned the kitten left, then right. "Aren't you a tiny precious thing..."

"All creatures great and small, eh', Angel? I figure you'd know what to do with it."

"Her. She is a her," he nodded assuredly. "All calico's are. Well there have been males recorded.. but they are.."

"Yeah, ain't that weird? Right? If they're all supposed to be girls why are there boys, like, sometimes?" He seemed to recall this discussion over tequila. If Crowley recalled correctly it had started with an argument over some pictures online of pure black roses.

"Well it doesn't happen often. I suppose-"

"What? Maybe God makes mistakes?" The demon interrupted.

The kitten was still mewing.

"Oh, no no, it's probably just a mix up in the paperwork. I'm sure some low level peon who doesn't really care is just stamping anything that goes through." Aziraphale surmised,

The demon snirked a little in agreement. "Hmm... that reminds me of something.. I wonder.. Oh, right, 'The-"

Rather louder than necessary; "THiS one, however, is *in fact* female, possessing an altered.... Oh you poor thing..."

The cat was turned around backwards now, butt to Aziraphale, which is why the Angel noticed the bend in the end of her tail. With the tips of his fingers he gently realigned the bend. And then the now quiet kitten was held against his chest. (To hell with his coat!) "Shh... how is that my little plum? Hmm.. Maybe three weeks old. Far too young to be out on her own. Where did you find her?"

Crowley shrugged as he closed the trunk, trying to recall where he had picked up the annoying little rat. "Eh.." He shrugged "I'uh'nu.. somewhere north.. nhh.. sssss. north of Soho?" He fumbled, trying to recall which roads he'd taken to get here?

There is no evidence to suggest demons possessed lower levels of intelligence than angels. It has been proven, however, that demons lack motivation by great margins as compared to angels. Make of that what one will.

"How far north?". Narrowed, accusing eyes scrutinized the demon's twitching jaw.

Crowley dismissed the angel's baiting glare. In fact,with an over-dramatic tilt of his head in annoyance the demon dismissed the hole conversation. "tch"

Dismissal accepted. The Angel grinned openly, "We should take her in where it's warm. Miracle us a bot... No.. I better do it," he pet the kitten gently as he held it, cooing happy little words at the creature.

"Eh?"

"Come along dear boy... We'll have to name her, you know." Aziraphale left the door open for his visitor.

"What?" Crowley followed quickly behind, "What did you-"

"You don't expect us to just call her 'Kitten' forever do you? How about Dutchess?"

" 'Zira you can't just-"

"Can't I?" the angel asked gently as he auto-piloted to the kitchenette, most of his attention on the furball. He did glance back to the demon briefly; "What do you think? Maybe 'Thud'.

Crowley was not amused.

"ooorr... Oh! Miss Baker!" the angel chucked.

"Angel that's very inappropriate. I would never..." He grumbled.. but he was smiling just a little.

Aziraphale smirked. "Alright, what about Pebbles?"

"I am not calling a cat Pebbles." the demon barked.

"Do you like that name my little pumpkin parfette?" An angelic voice cooed to the creature tucked against his chest.

The kitten purred, kneading hungrily into the soft, safe crook of the angel's arm.

Crowley yanked a scruchii off his long red hair and pulled it onto his wrist, his movements laced with annoyance. His fingers ran roughly back through messy curls. "Angel we don't have time to raise a kitten."

"Don't we?" Aziraphale produced kitten formula, bottle and a warm blanket, all by force of angelic will. The angelic 'guardian' of Eden was far more skilled in animal rearing than armed combat; Obviously.

Don't we? The demon shrugged and allowed himself to relax. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of black slacks and let out an almost relieved sigh, his body slouching into a more natural position. "Alright, so we've got a kitten."

"It would seem so." the angel whispered. He was tempting the creature with a tiny bottle of kitten formula.

"But I will not call her Pebbles."

"Maybe.. 'Speed Bump' ..?"

a few weeks later. Mid-day

There are precisely four people (aside from the Angel, who wasn't technically a person.. really.. in a way.. it's complicated) in the bookstore. Four people, much to Aziraphale's dismay, who might buy books. He was relieved when one of them left.

Moments later, Crowley enters the Fell shop and waits for the door to close behind him before drawing in a breath breath.

There is not a drippy-drop of shame in this beautiful, misunderstood beings body.

"Peeeepuuulllsss. Pebbyy baby come to pappa!" Crowley calls.

The now lean-and-active, though still tiny, kitten comes bouncing down the stairs towards the demon, who scoops her up and rubs his face all over hers, slithering little snaky kisses on her head as she licks roughly at his chin. "My preddy precious Pebble.."

And all of the sudden Aziraphale isn't quite as on edge as he had been. He's now quite content, in fact, sitting in a reading chair and working his way through a stack of un-categorized books. With a snap, his record player clicks on and the needle drops into a favorite record.

No one seems to notice the transition to Bach over the entertaining (adorable) sounds coming from Crowley as the muted calico kitten climbs across his shoulders to bite his ear.

Aziraphale returns to his categorizing, a content smile touching the corners of his eyes. He chided the demon; "Are you sure we can't name her Miss Baker?"

The demon glared at the grinning angel, kitten protectively held in his arms. "No."


	5. Picnic interrupted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (We have visitors)

"Why do they think I'm _EVIL_!?"

"You're a demon, Crowley!"

"But I'm not evil! I'm just mildly irritating.. He didn't even give me a chance to explain!"

"It's what humans do when they encounter black wings and glowing yellow snake eyes" Aziraphale puffed, more than a little irritated himself. They kept running, trees and limbs passing quickly, the fading light of Tuesday's sun piercing sharp between them.

Aziraphale had lost his new fall sweater, and Crowley's glasses had been left on the blanket. As had his shoes.

The angel caught the demon when he snagged cloth on an odd angled branch and nearly stumbled, spinning himself around. Arms in arms, the two stopped for only a handful of second, a handful of breaths (because they were in fact breathing). They looked behind them, expecting two figures to crest the path behind them.

They waited...

They were not disappointed.

Crowley grabbed Aziraphale's arm tighter and pulled him along before letting go and starting to run. It was a miracle Aziraphale was keeping up.

Miracle! Of course.

Crowley snapped his fingers then grabbed the angel's arm once more, pulling him along faster still.

Beside the path a tree splits in half, a large limb and a portion of the trunk twists in the air as it falls gracefully over the path, no where near close enough for the two pursuers to be injured, of course. Just enough to slow them down.

The human men wordlessly glance to one another before they separate. One (with a black blade in his hand) attempting to go around the roots of the tree on one side of the path, the other (This one with a simple looking handgun) heads for the crown opposite.

At some point Aziraphale pulled them off the path and through the old oaks that lined it. Having recognized the glint of cars in a parking lot behind the foliage. The angel guided the demon into a field of well kept grass, marked at the edges with white paint. "We can cut through here, look." he pointed across the field to the car park, their destination.

"Bloody brilliant." Crowley looked behind them, noting one man had left the path and the trees that lined it to follow them into the field. "Go.. GO.. GO!!" He all but pushed the angel in the direction of the lot.

The human bolted. He ran. He ran at an incredible speed for what was supposed to be a human being. His gun was held down and he shifted a shoulder and his weight to rush the demon, who was simply not fast enough.

The other human, smaller than the first, had broke through the path-lining trees and was rushing towards a collision of bodies, blade at the ready.

Aziraphale heard the approach and looked back soon enough to anticipate a shoulder connecting with his demon's back.

Determination on his face and quite literally at the end of his gracious and forgiving rope, Aziraphale turned with a WOOSH as mighty white wings sprung from the light surrounding his hovering form. His arms outstretched, tangled in rays of silver light, his lips parted with the sweetest and saddest trill of holy melody human ears will ever be graced without death (Aziraphale wasn't singing, he was screaming in utter frustration, but what do humans know?)

Time itself did not stop, not in actuality, but for a few seconds no one, nothing, could move. The earth could not breath, the bugs did not toil, the wind did not blow, birds fell from the sky, and clocks did not tick. For the humans close enough to be effected, it was terrifying; they stopped talking, stopped moving, stopped breathing even though their bodies screamed for air. For the humans closing in on these particular celestial beings, it was a warning shot. And one fired from a holy weapon. Both men froze. Even after the effect had ended. They stood motionless.

Aziraphale was once more normal-ish, the wings and halo and Godly light having vanished as quickly as they appeared. He was being cradled gently on Crowley's shoulder that he might not collapse to his knees.

The human pair where close now, but did not approach. "But he was seducing you.. the demon was...-"

"He was feeding me grapes, my dear child, and it was perfectly innocent in all ways, and you had to go and ruin it!"

Crowley blushed just a little. He laid a hand on Aziraphale's cheek and turned him so that eyes could meet.

Their foreheads rested against each-other for a few heartbeats.

"Ummm" said the taller human, unsure of the situation.

The shorter, slimmer one tilted his head, raised a perplexed brow "Eh.. Sorry, we thought he was gonna..."

"No! Oh heavens no!" Aziraphale looked back, his nose and cheeks dark.

"Well maybe.." Crowley nudged his nose against the angel's cheek and was gifted with an annoyed huff.

Aziraphale smacked Crowley's arm softly, a lighthearted warning if anything, and went about righting his clothing. He flicked a finger, returning Crowley's missing shoes. "I assure you it is none of your concern what an angel and a demon do on their days off. You don't see me coming to your picnics on your days off do you?" He pointed his finger at the shorter man, who's face grew red.

The demon grinned, yellow eyes perfect lines as they stared at the humans. "Wouldn't want head office knowing about-"

"Oh don't bother, Crowley, they already know. But that's none of our business.. just like THIS is none of YOUR business, right?" He stared pointedly at the humans.

Crowley huffed in exasperation and stomped off towards the car park. "You're too soft, Angel." he whined, almost inaudibly.

"Right. Got ya. Loud and clear. Your day off. No hard feelings, yeah?" The shorter man tipped an imagined hat to the celestial and pulled his partner along as he turned to leave the way they had followed.

"But th-"

"Not this time, little brother."


End file.
